Aftermath
by Jasper Corel
Summary: Where the movie leaves off, our story begins. It makes perfect sense that Victor and Victoria would not be married right away...not when the entire town thinks he's faked his own death to commit adultery! Our heros must deal with the cynics.
1. Prologue

Prologue

The voice of the town crier pierced the silence that hung about the town. "LORD BARKIS BITTERN BITES THE DU-UST! THE DEAD RETURN TO THEIR GRA-AVES!" he shouted. Little heads poked up from beneath the coverlets. Mothers and fathers peered cautiously out their windows to see if his words were true.

And they were.

The streets were once again empty, grey and empty, dim. Doors slowly creaked open to reveal anxious faces and men in their nightcaps wielding guns and swords. Their own shadows terrified them. That was to be expected, however; how else would one react to the bedlam that had broken loose not three hours beforehand, when the corpses had roamed over the streets in a ghastly procession towards the church? They could only imagine what had become of Pastor Galswells!

(Now, 'pastor' really wasn't a proper title for him, considering he was Anglican, but along with the Industrial Revolution had come a sudden surge of inside immigration and while the city remained almost entirely Anglican, a small few of the citizens, including the fish sellers, the Van Dorts, had converted to the ways of Calvin and Luther, or brought with them their Catholic roots. The staunchest of the Anglicans were totally opposed to this religious intrusion and continued to call the man Father Galswells despite the majority's playfully mocking renaming of him. This is unimportant, of course, or at least it is now, but it is an interesting tidbit to know.)

Pastor Galswells was unharmed physically, but emotionally? Well, of course the poor man was quite a wreck. It's not everyday that one is told to keep quiet by an animated skeleton! He was the first to wander into town, clutching his shepherd-like crook and wearing his nightie, muttering prayers and Hail Mary's. At the center of the town, beside the large, iron statue that marked the place, Pastor Galswells yelled from the cobblestones, "Lord save us all!", and then fainted. It wasn't long until he was taken in by a late middle-aged couple of considerable wealth.

The others who had witnessed the almost marriage between Victor Van Dort and the corpse bride, Emily, had fled the moment violence broke out. They too were on their way home, shaken by the experience. None knew of Lord Barkis' fate until they caught the latest headline on the wind. Lord Barkis Bittern bites the dust? Surely the dead had murdered him! But then again, would they? Had they not attended the wedding so that they could spend a little more time with their deceased loved ones? Grandfathers and lovers weren't capable of such malicious behavior! No, some other force must have ended Lord Barkis' life.

_Victor Van Dort._

It made sense, after all. The young man had turned his wedding rehearsal into disaster! Hadn't they heard tell that he'd caught Maudeline Everglot's dress on fire? An arsonist! A liar! He'd faked his death, hadn't he? An adulterer! Marrying another woman despite his engagement to Victoria! And now he was a murderer, a filthy, stinking murderer. Some held their heads higher, convinced that he would burn in hell for what he'd done. Some prayed for his immortal soul. Together the group arrived in town. All were filled with false assumptions.

Hildegarde, Victoria's maid, was the only one who'd not retreated from the church when Lord Barkis arrived. While all the others had jumped from their pews the moment steel began clashing, Hildegarde had sat very still. She'd watched the entire scene from her lonesome spot at the back of the church, beside the unlit, red offering candles. The shadows were deep there. Still she sat, still bewildered by the spectacle which had played across her eyes. The corpse girl! She'd vanished! Or rather turned into a thousand tiny butterflies! Such a trick Hildegarde had never seen, and truth be told, it would be a new sight for anyone to see. Emily was free. She'd gone to heaven.

It was a long while before anyone spoke.

"Victor," Victoria whispered, nuzzling her head into her love's neck.

"Victoria," Victor whispered.

They were together at last and only Victor, Victoria, and Hildegarde knew it.

But sadly, all good things must come to an end.


	2. Not At Home

Chapter One

Not At Home

"Our Victor? An adulterer?" William Van Dort asked. His nasal voice was expressive of his worry, but it still held a note of merriment. "There's obviously been a mistake." Ah, good-natured fellow! He adjusted the thin, gold bifocals that were perched on the edge of his nose, but as soon as his old hand left them, they slid right back to where they'd been.

"There's not been a mistake!" insisted Pastor Galswells. His grey eyebrows were furrowed into a frown to match the one he wore beneath his long, thin nose. His yellow eyes were nearly bulging out his head with frustration. "I saw him! Making unholy alliances! Your son has been joined to the devil!"

"Oh, pish posh!" replied Nell as she pressed on the pastor's shoulder and forced a spoonful of cough syrup into his open mouth.

"Woman!"

"Pastor Galswells, I am terribly sorry, but you trudged all that way through the snow last night, I'll not have you catch cold under my watch!"

"Now, dear, the pastor has every right to leave our home if he wishes, you know."

"Enough!" howled Pastor Galswells. Nell and William Van Dort stood suddenly silent. The pastor hoisted himself painfully from the bed in which he'd been laying, painfully because he'd suffered minor injuries in his fall the night before. Dark bruises decorated his legs and left arm, but they were conveniently hidden beneath the thin fabric of his nightime garb. He struggled to his feet, gingerly touched a hand to his hunched back, and shuffled across the room. Nell and William watched as he neared the door, then covered their eyes when he fell. Pastor Galswells let out a cry of pain. William hurried to the fallen man's side.

"Fetch a doctor!" he cried, and his fat wife was instantly scuttling down the stairs. William could hear her quick footsteps on the hardwood floors stop. "Leave the fan, dear!" he yelled and the footsteps resumed. He could hear the door open and close. He could hear her footfalls become lost in the clippity-clop of horse-drawn carriages and the bustle of the town outside the window.

The pastor's face was drawn and still. William touched his forehead. Warm. He was running a fever.

* * *

He wanted to kiss her.

He was so close!

He could feel her soft breath on his neck; feel her warm body pressed against his own. Their fingers were intertwined in the most delicate way. Fingers! So unlike the cold, thin bones he'd held earlier that night! He stared into her eyes. Both were filled with longing. He could tell she felt the same when he noticed that she too had stopped breathing for several moments.

She looked away. Their breathing resumed. The moment was lost.

Victor moaned softly in his sleep, regretting his lack of gall even in unconsciousness. He would have tossed and turned now, but only one toss was needed to awaken him because he rolled off the seat the moment he began. He groaned and touched the right side of his head where he'd slammed into the side of the carriage. This hadn't been one of his most ingenious ideas, he thought. With such long limbs as his, sleeping inside a horseless horse-drawn carriage wasn't advisable.

Stepping out of the black box, he glanced around his family's shed. Fair sunlight was fighting to make its way through the layer of dust that had settled on the clerestory windows. Was it morning? Or afternoon? He couldn't tell. Victor tripped over an oil can on his way across the floor, the same one he'd fallen over in the darkness the previous night, opened the door, and shielded his eyes against the sunlight until his eyes readjusted.

* * *

"Do you think Victor is all right?" Nell asked of her husband in hushed tones. Their sitting room was quiet except for their whispered conversation and the ticking of the clock. In the room above, the town doctor was examining Pastor Galswells.

"I hope so dear," William answered. "He's a resourceful boy,"

"Resourceful? He wet the bed until he was eight!"

"Well, I didn't say he was brave..."

"Of course he isn't!"

"But I would have thought that he might have come home last night,"

"What if he really did marry a corpse?"

"He very well might have,"

Words did not answer this remark. But a fan whacked upside his head did.

"Well Victor's never been one to really care about high society," William protested.

"He wouldn't marry a corpse!" Nell exclaimed, her high pitched whisper rose to an incredulous, high pitched gasp. "You saw how nervous he was at the rehearsal!"

"Then why didn't he come home last night?"

She rapped him on the head again, then fanned herself in a frantic manner. "You don't believe Pastor Galswells, do you? You don't really think he was making 'unholy alliances', do you?" A note of sincere worry had entered her voice.

"Of course not, dear! I'm sure he'll be back home shortly!" William took Nell's hand in his own and patted it. "Perhaps he'll bring his corpse bride home to meet us!"

He smiled a wry smile. She slapped him with her fan.


	3. This Must Be A Dream

Chapter Two

This Must Be A Dream

She wanted to kiss him.

She was so close!

She could feel the soft skin of his neck against her cheek; feel his warm body pressed against her own. Their fingers were intertwined in the most delicate way. Fingers! So unlike the cold, thin bones he'd held earlier that night! She stared into his eyes. Both were filled with longing. She could tell he felt the same when she noticed that he too had stopped breathing for several moments.

He looked away. Their breathing resumed. The moment was lost.

Victoria moaned softly in her sleep, cursing her femininity even in unconsciousness. She would have tossed and turned now, but Hildegarde had been awakened by her quiet cries and the maid shook her gently into awareness. "Oh, Hildegarde!" Victoria whispered. "Why must the most beautiful things be called improper?" The old woman hushed her and smoothed back Victoria's hair wordlessly. All she could offer was an empathetic, nostalgic smile. Victoria would have no answers now.

She slipped back into her dream.

They'd stood in awkward silence for a moment, then separated. Victor walked almost purposefully to the spot where Emily had been transformed and turned his gaze towards heaven. She moved to join him, took his pale hand into hers, but she felt no warmth. She felt nothing. Was she even holding it at all? A pale, blue butterfly fluttered past her ear. It had been his pale hand. Another floated at her side. His heart. The butterflies filled the sky, obscured the stars, disappeared. All but two gone. A pair of butterflies rested briefly on her cheek.

They must have been his lips.

* * *

"Get up!" came the harsh, throaty voice of Maudeleine Everglot. She pounded on the wooden door with her fist, awakening the bedroom's inhabitants.

Hildegarde rubbed her eyes, glanced towards the bed in which Victoria was sleeping, and gasped. The colors of the dawn were creeping across the floors in bands. The boards across the windows had thrown the maid off. Had they not been there, the room would have been bathed in a pastel light by this time.

"If you are not out of there in ten minutes time, Victoria, I swear!"

Hildegarde shook the young woman, whose eyelids fluttered up to reveal large, doe's eyes. "Get up, get up!" The maid whispered urgently. "You'll be late for mass!"

Victoria turned her head in the direction of the window. Indeed, the hour was late. Damn those bars! She leapt from the bed, her unbound brown tresses falling untidily down her back. A moment later she was emerging from the bedroom's attached bathroom, three pins in her teeth and a powder puff in hand. Hildegarde had already withdrawn a suitable dress from the wardrobe.

"Victoria!"

"Just a moment!"

"Victoria!"

"I'm almost ready, mother!"

"I say, child! Hurry up!"

Hildegarde was powdering Victoria's hair when Maudeliene entered. Victoria buttoned the last of the buttons on her bodice and adjusted her bustle uncomfortably under her mother's stare. "Were you not awake?" she demanded, but did not wait for the obvious answer. "It's not enough for you to go traipsing off in the middle of the night _for the second time_? You have to be late to church now too? Heaven knows you need _God_ in your life right now!"

"But mother," She'd meant to tell her mother that she was not the only person who had been 'traipsing' around the night before. There had been at least a handful of other living people present at the midnight wedding ceremony, including Hildegarde! She was interrupted.

"What are you wearing!" Maudeleine screeched. "Pink stripes! Lord, no! Child, you are in mourning!"

"Mourning?"

"Yes! Surely you must have seen if you were at the church! That despicable Van Dort boy murdered Lord Barkis!"

Hildegarde and Victoria gasped as one.

"Is that what they're saying?" Victoria asked disbelievingly.

"It's true!"

"No it's not! Victor's not capable of murder! He wouldn't harm a fly!"

Maudeleine glowered. "How can you defend your husband's killer?"

"Victor didn't kill him!" her daughter squeaked. She turned to Hildegarde for help. "Please, Hildegarde! Say something! Tell her it's all lies!"

But Hildegarde was silent. She would be dismissed from her position if she contradicted any word from her mistress' lips. And nobody wanted to hire an elderly maid nowadays.

"Hildegarde!" Victoria nearly screamed in desperation.

"Victoria! Stop that this instant! Such emotional displays are improper for a lady of your stature!"

"I don't care," she whispered inaudibly, but wiped the tears that were threatening to fall from her eyes.

"We're going to church. You will confess your sins."

Hildegarde took Victoria's arm and started to lead her from the room.

"After," Maudeleine stepped into the empty doorway. "You change out of that dress!"

The door slammed shut.

Victoria burst into sobs.


	4. Unexpectance

Woo! Sorry this took so long to upload! I've been working on it off and on for a while now, but sometimes real life interferes with fanfiction. Ha! I've been really busy. Hope this is worth the wait. Oh! And I made a couple changes to the prologue because I started doing my research (I know, should've done that before you started writing, eh?) and it seems that the Anglicans wear pope hats too, but preach Protestant doctrine. That was throwing me off for a bit. I had to rework a lot of the plot in my head because of that. I was going to have Victoria be Catholic and stuff, but now she has to be Anglican. I did have an AWESOME idea for Elder Gutknedt though. I just need a reason for Victor to end up in the Land of the Dead again.

* * *

Chapter Three

Unexpectance

Why were they staring? Why did mothers hold onto their children when he passed by on the opposite side of the street? Why were young women looking at him with awe and attraction? Why did they pretend not to be looking? Why were scoundrels nodding appreciatively at him? Why did his peers cower?

He made his way through town without a backwards glance, except maybe towards the Everglot home when he passed it. He knew she wasn't there, however. She'd be on her way to the church. If he remembered correctly, the Everglots left for church more than an hour before they ever had to in order to get the best seats for mass. Two if it was a holiday.

He was troubled by imaginings of her family and his own --- and by remembrances of the past forty-eight hours.

The Van Dort estate loomed over him.

Victor knocked politely on the door, half expecting Mayhew to answer --- that is, until he remembered that Mayhew had passed away the previous morning. Hadn't it been longer than that? No. Mayhew's funeral probably hadn't even been planned yet.

He turned the knob slowly when no one answered immediately only to have the great oak door ripped from his hand as it was pulled inward.

"Victor!" William exclaimed.

"Father!"

"You've come back!" There was a bit of a question, a smidgen of disbelief in the elder man's voice, but it was only for a fleeting moment that these were evident. He grasped his son's hand and led him quietly into the entrance hall.

"I'm terribly sorry for my disappearance," Victor started. "But you should know that it was unintentio-"

William hushed him with a finger to his lips. "Pastor Galswells is upstairs being examined by the doctor." Victor's countenance showed all the confusion that he could have possibly expressed in a question and more. William smiled understandingly. "We found him last night, blacked out in the snow, poor man," he explained in a whisper.

"Victor!"

Nell had practically screamed his name. "Where have you been!"

"Dear, the pastor," William whispered. A reminder was in order. He pointed towards the ceiling.

"Oh, right." she conceded, lowering her voice. "Where have you been, dear?" she asked again; this time annoyance was present in her voice.

* * *

Maudeleine Everglot was a picture of displeasure. Her thin, dark brows were knit over her unattractively long face. Finnis Everglot was not much better. Could his mouth have been turned more downward, could his sharp, little nose have been sharper, could his beady eyes have been more shadowed by his protruding sockets, he would have looked the worse. Together they were terrific. Victoria could do nothing but tremble in their wake. Sitting across from them in their large carriage (large to accommodate Finnis and to display the wealth that everyone assumed them to possess), she was forced to face them. Oh to be anywhere else! 

"You've done something to him!" Maudeleine accused.

"Or rather that Van Dort boy has," Finnis growled.

"What happened last night?" Maudeleine demanded.

It was all she could do to keep from crying and speaking forced her to refocus her attention. A tear fell from Victoria's eye. "We didn't do anything, mother!" she sobbed. "Father Galswells ran away from the church the moment he saw the dead people! I passed him!"

She must be lying! "Then where is he?" Maudeleine screeched. "Father Galswells would never skip mass! He practically lives there in that church! Where is he?"

"I don't know!" Victoria cried.

"Shut up that crying, girl!" said Finnis. "It's most unattractive."

She could not for the life of her have done so at that moment. They were accusing Victor of killing Father Galswells now!

"We'll shut her up in her room again, where she belongs, until she learns to cry for her lost husband!"

"No more of this defending that criminal!" Finnis agreed. "You'll learn, Victoria, that crime does not pay."

"I'll be glad the day that he's thrown in jail for what he's done! He's ruined our chances for fiscal success!"

"Not quite, dear," Finnis interrupted her. "I'm afraid I disagree. I'm quite sure Lord Barkis' estate will prove to be worth more than an acceptable amount."

"No!"

Maudeleine and Finnis were taken aback by this sudden shout from their daughter.

"He was the same as you! He only married me to get to _your_ gold!"

A pause.

"Lies." Maudeleine hissed. "Lies that _that_ _Victor_ fed you last night! What else did he say to you, Victoria? Did he tell you he loved you?"

Victoria buried her head in her hands. Her body shook from sobbing.

"Did he tell you he loved you?" Her mother's cold whisper could have chilled the sun. It was more than she could bear.

"He does love me, mother!" Victoria shouted.

"Slut!" Maudeleine shouted back. "Now we know where you really were last night!"

"No! He didn't lay a hand on me!"

"Like hell he didn't!"

"He didn't!"

"Enough!" Finnis exclaimed. "The doctor shall settle this!"

Victoria's sobs were silent for the rest of the ride home. Finnis and Maudeleine sat grimly watching her with disdain.


	5. Less Than Pleasant Conversation

Okay. So Victor is half English (William's side) and half German (Nell's side). And I've cleverly started to work my spectacular explanatory idea into the story! There was supposed to be a bit with Pastor Galswells in this chapter too, but I think I'll either tack it on later or make it a part of another chapter because this one's already more than 2000 words long and I REALLY wanted to update before everyone lost interest in my story. And I fucking hate my sister.

* * *

Chapter Four

(Less Than) Pleasant Conversation

A knock on the door interrupted their conversation. It was a short, commanding knock with several syllables worked into it, like a submarine captain or a fighter pilot's knock. Even Nell, who would have loved to ignore any visitors they might have received that day, was forced to look away from her stuttering son to gaze down the hallway. The knock had come a second time before anyone realised that Mayhew was not going to answer it. William glanced anxiously towards the ceiling as he hoisted himself from his armchair. "I'll get it, Father." Victor ejaculated, jumped up from his place on the spindly-legged loveseat, and dashed down the hall. Anything to escape their slack-jawed stares!

The raven-haired youth yanked open the front door with unnecessary force and nearly stumbled across the threshold. Had he not caught himself in time he would have found himself in the arms of another man, the butler of the Everglot home. Victor looked at the newcomer dubiously. He didn't trust the older man's parrot-like nose, his squinty eyes, or his perfectionist air. "Why have you come?" Victor asked of him. William's kind, nasal voice sounded from down the hall, "Victor, that's no way to greet our guest!"

Victor' father ushered the butler genteelly inside, all the while apologising for his son's impoliteness. "He means well," William explained. "I think he's just nervous about something." Victor winced apologetically behind the butler's back. William saw it and smiled understandingly.

In the sitting room, the man declined Nell's offer of a chair. He'd not be staying long, he informed them; he'd only come to fetch the doctor.

"The doctor?" asked Nell. "Whatever for?" (Perhaps it was Nell who needed to be apologised for!)

"It is none of your concern, ma'am," the butler answered shortly. "But usually when a doctor is called for, it means that someone is ill."

This piqued Victor's interest. A servant of the Everglot estate, someone ill? It could only mean one thing --- either Mister or Misses Everglot had had a heart attack or an aneurysm or a stroke or something. It was only a matter of time, he thought, until those uptight, old bats found out that their daughter had been communing with the living dead and spending times in the arms of a man who was not her husband. A sinking feeling followed the end piece of that thought, however, and his near elation became a pit in his stomach. In his mind he cursed himself for allowing himself to do more than hold her hand. They hadn't touched lips; only she'd laid her lovely head against his chest and he'd wrapped his arms around her. Why were the most beautiful things deemed improper? He wanted to ask which one it was, Finnis or Maudeleine, who was nearer to the crossing of the river Styx, but knew that asking, 'Who's ill?' would be more socially incorrect than his earlier directness in asking 'Why have you come?'. Instead he settled for, "Someone's ill?"

Nell prodded him with her fan, but lightly. She wanted to know too. Gossip.

"No," was the curt answer from the butler. Victor and Nell's faces showed similar signs of shock.

"Then why do you need the doctor?" Nell exclaimed. The dismay in her voice was disgusting.

William, of course, came to the rescue. He coughed into his fist, "Ahem," and explained the situation to the parrot-faced man. "You see, sir," said he. "The doctor is upstairs attending to Pastor Galswells, and our family would not like to see the doctor leave for something trivial. If someone else is sick, then by all means, take the doctor with you as soon as he's finished here, but if not, then we'd prefer the doctor stayed."

One name seemed to be the only thing the butler caught. "So Father Galswells is here and..._alive_? My employers will be glad to know that he's not been _murdered_ too." A sneer painted the tiny lips beneath his enormous nose.

Victor opened his mouth to speak, but William was quicker. "Yes, Pastor Galswells is here. My wife and I took him in last night."

"Well, my mistress begged me not to return without the doctor. Because Miss Victoria's well-being is not _trivial_ to her, I shall do as she asks."

"Victoria?" Victor gasped. "Victoria's ill?"

"I'll wait for the doctor to come down."

The Van Dort family sat in silence. Their guest stood staring stonily out the window. William occasionally looked to the ceiling as if willing the doctor to hurry his examination. Nell fanned herself nervously. Victor bit his lip; his mind was ablaze. Only the clock chattered gaily.

Presently the doctor announced his arrival downstairs; the creaking of the steps beneath his weight gave him away. The doctor's entry into the sitting room was watched intently by four pairs of eyes --- twice the amount which had been there when he'd ascended. He seemed to take this in stride and dabbed indifferently at his forehead with a kerchief.

"The pastor," began the doctor. "Is dying," There was a collective shudder. "But his death will have been of natural causes. Old age, you see, and probably a calcium deficiency. Can't say how long he has left, could be several years if he's properly looked after. You folks, " He nodded to Mister and Misses Van Dort. "Did a jolly good thing taking the old bloke in last night. I think he's been living in the church these past few months because it's too strenuous for him to keep walking to and from his house! Then what with the snow and the dead things walking about, he's been under a lot of stress." The doctor shook his grey head. "I'm not prescribing anything because there's nothing I can do. Keep him warm, try to keep his mind off of things like ghosts and corpses and he should be fine. I think he might be catching cold too. Might want to keep an eye on that."

"Thank you, doctor." said William. Nell nodded.

"If that's all, then I'll toddle off. G'day."

The doctor took his hat and coat from William who had retrieved them from the brass coat stand in the hall.

"Just a moment," the butler interjected.

The doctor pulled his coat up over his shoulder. "Yes?"

"A few of the _townspeople _(he said the word with obvious dislike) said that I would find you here.I've come from the home of Lord and Lady Everglot. They wondered if you might find the time to have a look at their daughter."

After a quick look at his watch, the doctor nodded. "Yes, I suppose I could."

"Wonderful."

And with that the two men left.

There was barely a moment's silence after their departure because immediately after the door shut behind them, Victor, Nell, and William had turned to face each other once again. "What did he mean when he implied that Pastor Galswells had been murdered?" Victor enquired. His mother and father shifted uncomfortably. His question had been delivered forcefully, but had still retained a certain innocence that made his ignorance about his present social standing obvious.

"Well, Victor," William started. "There's been a bit of gossip going on,"

Victor continued to gaze at him confusedly. William sighed.

"Here," he said, pushed aside the heavy curtains and opened the window. The voice of the town crier drifted inside over the wind, "VICTOR VAN DORT SUSPECTED IN THE DEATH OF LORD BARKIS BIT-TERN!"

Victor was incredulous. "Me? Why am I a suspect? He killed himself!"

"Did he?" Nell asked, leaning forward. It was the first time they'd heard anything different from the town crier's reports.

"Yes!" Victor nodded earnestly. There was hope yet. His parents would believe him surely! "I was in the church. I finished Emily's vows for her and I was about to drink the poison Elder Gutknedt prepared, but she stopped me and turned me around and Victoria was there! But I thought that she'd been married earlier that day! Turns out she was, of course, because only a minute later he burst into the church and threatened Victoria and I and then Emily recognized him as the lover who'd killed _her_ and we dueled, or rather, he dueled with me, I was just trying not to be filleted! He was cornered and he started ---"

"Victor!" Nell screeched. "You're not making any sense! Who is Emily? And you were _dueling?_"

"Not really. I was just trying to stay alive! It was Lord Barkis who was doing all the stabbing."

"Is Emily your corpse bride?" William asked.

Victor turned away from his mother. She was useless. "Yes. I married her accidentally after I left the wedding rehearsal the other night. I was practising my vows in the woods and I placed the ring on a twig that was poking out of the ground. That twig was actually her finger and she rose up out of the ground. I fainted on the bridge, I think, and when I woke up, I was in the Land of the Dead."

"The Land of the Dead?" Nell squeaked. "What's all this nonsense?"

"The Land of the Dead. There are corpses and skeletons, but they're still _alive_ to some extent. It's a sort of necropolis beneath the earth, but it's not hell. There's no eternal fire, no suffering, no pain. There's no sunlight, surely, but it's tolerable."

"Tolerable?" Nell exclaimed.

"Well, the people are nice. And Scraps was there! Emily gave him to me as a wedding present."

"They're not people if they're dead!" Nell gasped.

"Victor, Scraps has been dead for years! You can't have gotten him as a wedding present." William shook his head.

"But I did! He didn't have fur anymore, or organs for that matter, but he recognized me and ---" The looks on his parents faces told him it would be of no good to go on. They didn't believe him. They were staring at him with wide, sad eyes. They were disappointed and scared. Their only son had cracked. Victor's heart sunk; his face fell. "But didn't you...see...the dead people...walking around last night?"

His parents shook their heads slowly. William leaned heavily on his chair. "We were in the woods last night. We'd gone to look for you, but Mayhew passed away sometime on the way there and the horses went off in their own direction."

"But horses have an excellent sense of direction!" Victor argued. "They would have brought you home!"

"And they did," William replied in his most soothing voice. "But when we passed the church, we did not see any corpses. There were candles lit, but no one was outside. No one was outside in town either. About an hour later we heard Pastor Galswells yelling outside and we took him in. A lot of people say they saw the living dead last night, Victor, but we didn't see them ourselves."

"You believe Pastor Galswells, don't you? And the rest of the town? The Everglots saw them! Please, Mother! Father! Why don't you believe me?"

Nell fanned herself more quickly and hid her face behind its lacey folds. "It's just _strange_, Victor. Everyone says that _you_ murdered Lord Barkis and that _you_ were the one marrying a corpse! Why would you marry a dead woman, Victor! Why!"

Victor looked desperately towards his father.

William was equally doubtful. "When you're suspected of murder, Victor, you need a believable alibi. This Land of the Dead story is really..." He hesitated, trying to think of a right word.

"You were gone for more than a whole day!"

"Victor, if you've been dabbling in the black arts..."

"There is no Land of the Dead! There's only heaven and hell, Victor!"

Victor covered his ears with his hands. How could they be saying this? Why didn't they believe him? "Maybe you're wrong, mother!" Victor shouted. "Maybe there _is_ such a thing as purgatory and the whole of Protestantism is wrong!"

Nell was on her feet and Victor cowered before her despite his considerable height advantage. "And maybe your returning to England was wrong! You could have stayed in Germany after University and settled down with a nice, German girl but no! You wanted to be nearer to the Romantics! You wanted to be among writers and scientists! There are writers and scientists in Germany!"

"Now, dear," William said as he eased his wife back into her chair. "This has nothing to do with Victor's returning to England. I think his being in England is a good thing."

"Even though he can't hold public office!"

"That's because of _our family's_ religious beliefs, not because of anything he's done. And you'd be good to remember that _you_ converted _me_ to Lutheranism."

Nell stewed silently in her chair.

"Father's right," Victor whispered. "If I hadn't come back to England, I would never have met Victoria. She is the best thing that's ever happened to me."

"Is that why you didn't come home last night, Victor?" William asked quietly. "Because of her?"

"I love her, Father. I walked her to her house after Lord Barkis drank the poison. I would have come home, but I was locked out. When we left for the wedding rehearsal the other night I hadn't thought to take a key with me because I'd thought I'd be returning home with you."

Nell got up again and disappeared. She returned holding two silver house keys. They were the only ones that the family possessed. Victor had truthfully been locked out of the house.

William and Nell shared a grieved glance. What were they to do?


End file.
